Dark cloud water trickling

[REVIEW] I am eager to return to his childhood home, once again grandfather lying on the back, overlooking the rolling Shakes the Barley, once again standing on the hill, and relive local Sushi place cranes. For many years, Big Mac does not smell, but not Shakes the Barley. Some years have been vast, green waves of grain that has been rolling into the memory of the vicissitudes of life. The new version of Red House some beautiful clear, even if there are a large number of classical language, always felt a little something old version of desolation.The new face of her is some fat, but not reflected in the tears rolling gem love Rye. From a foreign country to the home, the heart is unable to measure.Those Pastoral picturesque dead. Childhood is fixed on a tall stack of cotton, such as “settled” in the fool feel like white clouds in the sky above. Wanted, cast, a touch of warmth eyes. These days, do not write, Liu Liang Cheng immersed in the lengthy “hollowing out” where, just as immersed in his collection of essays, “A man’s village.”. Only in this text, the heart was so quiet and subtle fragrance. Time quietly flowing, the World Cup filled with a wave of emotion, moved to North Korea’s Chong Tese tears, moved to South Korea’s Park Ji-Sung sad little eyes, moved by Japanese players shaking changgui…..Some, such as the back engraved in history as Columbus. ?Luo is a lone wolf, Rooney’s eyes filled with despair, Messi can not break the scoring drought.We do, we have also ignited expectations for Dong. We also have a dream, to bring joy Milutinovic, World Cup we also bright phase, alas, alas. Always want to dream of music pastoral watering barren, regardless of all the Red House as water their love, or “hollowing out” of a mattock Xinjiang, erratic heart full of vicissitudes.At this moment, eyes drifting too young green rice seedlings. What is the heart of the old, perhaps, Mecca, not the Muslim pilgrimage to paradise. Wanted, lying into a water lily, in the absence of the night, only the desired, lover’s eye moonlight. Put a lot of books in my bed, my eyes still desire, the dream is still a loss, some text, exudes sadness, but also exudes fragrance.They are also my heart sunshine, quietly nourish my weary heart. I know that my heart is still planted with seasonal crops, I also firmly believe that they must also be a permanent chapter in my heart. I am eager to return to his childhood home, once again grandfather lying on the back, overlooking the rolling Shakes the Barley, once again standing on the hill, and relive local Sushi place cranes.[Editor: leaf]